Ballet San Jose adds to its repertoire, and its name

By Allan Ulrich

Updated
4:32 pm PDT, Sunday, March 29, 2015

Annali Rose performs in “This Might Be True” from Amy Seiwert as part of the “Bodies in Technology” program from Ballet San Jose, which despite all the sensory input, kept the dancing the center of attention. less

Annali Rose performs in “This Might Be True” from Amy Seiwert as part of the “Bodies in Technology” program from Ballet San Jose, which despite all the sensory input, kept the dancing the center of ... more

Photo: Alejandro Gomez / Alejandro Gomez

Photo: Alejandro Gomez / Alejandro Gomez

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Annali Rose performs in “This Might Be True” from Amy Seiwert as part of the “Bodies in Technology” program from Ballet San Jose, which despite all the sensory input, kept the dancing the center of attention. less

Annali Rose performs in “This Might Be True” from Amy Seiwert as part of the “Bodies in Technology” program from Ballet San Jose, which despite all the sensory input, kept the dancing the center of ... more

Photo: Alejandro Gomez / Alejandro Gomez

Ballet San Jose adds to its repertoire, and its name

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Its coffers abundantly filled after its emergency campaign, Ballet San Jose Silicon Valley (which is what the company is calling itself this month) set about replenishing its repertoire during the weekend with new and grittily contemporary premieres by Amy Seiwert and Yuri Zhukov. Not a tutu was in evidence Saturday evening at the refurbished California Theatre, a more intimate (1,100 seats) venue than the company’s customary home and the right spot for what Artistic Director José Manuel Carreño was purveying.

“Bodies of Technology” was what he called the program, which was something of a misnomer. True, projections and electronically altered sound scores were the order of the evening. But, with the exception of the revival of Jessica Lang’s “Eighty-One,” nowhere did the dance express anything like ambiguity about technology in theater. Still, it was impossible to imagine the San Jose Ballet of a decade ago producing a program like this. The company’s 33 dancers fell into the spirit, whether romantic, robotic or kinky.

The most gratifying surprise was, that, despite all the sensory input, the dancing remained the center of attention. In her “This Might Be True,” Seiwert again partnered with media designer Frieder Weiss, but this is a much richer collaboration than the earlier effort. Set to music by Nils Frahm and Anne Müller, the piece finds the 10 dancers, individually and collectively, interacting with Weiss’ bluish projections.

A wafted arm induces ripples and moving straight lines. A couple contorted in a duet brings what looks like heat-sinking vibrations. Lifts generate what look like vapor trails.

Seiwert’s neoclassical vocabulary is seen here at its most elegant and economical. She has some fun, too, with floor work and sudden unisons. The playful quality is endearing, and the dancers, all in white, performed in that spirit.

Seiwert is so prolific she tends to be taken for granted. Conversely, it is hard to understand why Zhukov possesses his cheering section, unless they all admire his brazenness. The protracted “User’s Manual” looked like the bastard offspring of Jirí Kylián and William Forsythe with a few original touches. In a way, it was rather fun to tick off all the overused devices as they flew by.

First, there’s the all-in white woman (Countess Almaviva? the Marschallin?), who poses, departs and never reappears. Then there’s the woman (Ommi Pipit-Suksun) who emerges from the clutches of three men. She, like the women who follow, sports one of those red wigs favored by Sylvie Guillem. Kendall Teague in flesh-hued body suit tussles in a long duet with Pipit-Suksun whose pointe work is fearless.

At the end, the entire 16-member cast seizes the stage for an ensemble full of undulant action and short of direction. The countdown clock isn’t original, either (remember Merce Cunningham’s “Ocean”?) Meanwhile, a narrator reads the manual on operating a printer, we get films of machinery and the commissioned score by The Living Earth Show tinkles pleasantly. David Sziasa takes responsibility for projections and scenic design.

“Eighty-One” is the one with composer Jakub Ciupinski up high in his DJ perch creating the score, while the 11 dancers, through unisons and isolations, suggest the dehumanization of technology. Jim French’s lighting was a major asset.

The evening’s only misfire was the embarrassing “Grand Défilé” that opened the program. The 110 ballet school students and trainees who participated in this pageant, choreographed by Dalia Rawson, lack the technical mastery to flaunt their prowess. Try it all again in five years.